


Spoonful

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pavel looks after his sick boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoonful

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Pavel takes a spoonful to check—but it’s difficult to know if he made the recipe correctly when he’s not sure what it’s supposed to taste like. He supposes it doesn’t taste bad. Soup was not considered a cure in Russia when he left. Apparently it is... wherever John’s from. 

John’s cryptic at best, and he won’t explain how exactly he contracted a Ceti fever. Nor will he go to the hospital. He insists he’ll make a full recovery by tomorrow, and if Pavel hadn’t already seen several examples of John’s ridiculously accelerated immune system, he wouldn’t believe it. 

The soup’s hot, so Pavel uses a dish cloth to carry it into the bedroom, where John is right where Pavel left him. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the grey ceiling. His white bed is particularly large, and Pavel sits down on the side of it, cooing, “How are you feeling?” He reaches down to brush through John’s dark hair, slicked back with sweat.

John, strong as ever in the face of an illness that could take down an elephant, says only, “Fine.” His lips are pursed tightly together. Face screwed up—concentrating on looking _fine._ Except he ruins the whole effect by coughing. 

Anyone else would be breaking out in rashes and going delirious by now. Whatever John does for Starfleet, Pavel knows it isn’t normal. But now isn’t the time to pry into secrets, and Pavel puts the warm bowl in his lap, helping John sit up, back in the pillows. His shirtless chest is beaded with perspiration, though the room is cold. Pavel transfers the bowl into John’s lap and leans in to kiss his temple. 

Blowing on a spoonful, John says, “Thank you.” His voice is a little cracked, but otherwise as deep and smooth as it always is. Pavel stretches out beside his boyfriend, turning to face him. He plays gently with John’s hair and rubs his thighs through the blanket, nuzzling into the side of his face and just generally trying to be _there for him._ It isn’t contagious. John likes to have Pavel in his sight as much as possible, and Pavel intends to obediently stay by John’s side whenever he can. John drapes an arm loosely around Pavel’s waist, holding it while the other lifts soup to his lips. He swallows the first spoonful and says, “Delicious.” 

He turns to kiss Pavel on the mouth. His lips are a little clammy. Pavel loves them anyway. He licks a stray bead of soup off, and he kisses their corner. He sighs, “I hope you will get better soon.” He kisses John’s cheekbone, wishing he could kiss it all better. 

John eats the soup slower than usual, and halfway through, he makes an awkward sort of grunt, bends over, and drops the spoon into the bowl. Pavel’s soothing him instantly, helping him back into the pillows and petting his bare chest, whispering soft things like, “Shh,” and, “It’s okay.” Then he picks the spoon out of the bowl and lifts it up, murmuring, “Say ‘ah.’”

John’s mouth falls open, tongue out. Pavel has to repress a shiver; John’s gorgeous like this, even sick. His multi-coloured eyes are half-lidded. Pavel gently puts the spoon between his lips, and John closes around it, sucking off the soup and swallowing. Then Pavel pulls the spoon out slowly, going back for more. 

John gets about halfway through before he says levelly, “I believe I am in need of more rest.”

And Pavel instantly says, “Okay.” He takes the bowl and puts it on the nightstand, and then he helps John lie down, shuffling back beneath the covers. He pulls them right up to tuck John in, and he presses his palm to John’s forehead: still boiling. But it’s not nearly as bad as it should be. Pavel replaces his palm with his mouth, and after the kiss, he murmurs into the side of John’s face, “You are a wery amazing person, John.”

John turns to capture Pavel’s lips, so much weaker than usual, just quick and sweet. He insists, “I’ll be fully recovered in the morning.”

Even if he doesn’t believe it, Pavel smiles and says, “I will be here.”

And he pulls back, returning to the chair by the window, where he can watch over John. John’s eyes close. He looks peaceful. 

Pavel sighs, “Computer, lights.”


End file.
